Birdkids and pegasi
by NitnatRide
Summary: The flock is suddenly attacked by a hellhound, and Percy and Annabeth stop it just in time. Explanations after the incident set off a chain of events. FAX, of course. x-over of Percy Jackson Max Ride
1. Summer and oh, crap

**Chapter 1: Summer and oh, crap**

I love summer. Sunshine, beaches, sea, bikinis (though you'd never catch me dead in one), and a good rise in temperature. Great for a few runaway birdkids to camp outside and not have to huddle up close in blankets. Welcome to my world.

"You seem happy, Max," my 'brother' Iggy commented from cooking the rabbits we managed to catch. We got lucky; usually it's just rats.

I was lying in the sun, spread out like an eagle (appropriately), and enjoying the feeling of warmth on my face, eyes closed. Iggy couldn't see this, but he could feel the happy vibes emanating off me.

"Sunshine and heat," I replied, not opening my eyes. "What's not to like?"

I was greeted with blissful, calming silence after that…until a looming shadow blocked my heat source. "Shift you rear, Fang," I still hadn't opened my eyes. "Get out of my sun." But a barely-suppressed giggle broke my trance, and I was just about to open my eyes when I felt a lot of cold water tipped over my face and head. I screamed and jumped up, my breathing slightly accelerated from early hypothermia. The others broke down laughing and I stared incredulously at Fang, a huge grin on his face and the offending empty water bottle in his hand. I swear I heard the water, still on me, start to sizzle in my fury. Fang just continued to smirk, then threw the bottle by his bag and sauntered off, his prized possession – his leather jacket – practically glowing with his smugness.

Hmm…his leather jacket…

I quietly crept over to my rucksack, whilst his back was still turned, and found what I was looking for. I sneaked up on him – quite an achievement actually – unscrewed the cap and emptied the contents of the sun-cream bottle onto his head, hence ruining his jacket. He whirled around, pure anger clear in his dark eyes, and the others were silent with shock. Fang curled his fists, and if I hadn't known him, I would have thought that he was properly pissed, and not faking it.

"It is on, Maximum Ride," he barely whispered.

He lunged at me – probably faster than light – and tackled me to the ground, and I couldn't help laughing at the thrill of the play-fight. Fang caught a glob of sun-cream from his hair and smeared it all over my face. I cried out at the stickiness of the substance, but before I could get him back, he wrapped his arms around me, securing my arms and wings to my sides, and started pulling me past the others, who had started their own water-fight. I cried out again as I realised he was pulling me towards the small lake we had rested by. I began to struggle more, but Fang just laughed – properly laughed – at my feeble efforts. He threw me into the air, but I managed to grab his jacket again, hauling him in with me.

There was an explosion of bubbles and the freezing temperature, despite the season, was enough to stun me for a few moments, but I managed to surface just before Fang.

"Jimmy crap **(don't make fun, I say that sometimes)**, it's freezing," he forced out between his teeth.

I laughed at him, and he took a deep breath then dived again, yanking my arm to pull me under as well. He ruffled his hair with his hand, letting the water wash the sun-cream out, as his jacket was already clean; it was some cheap water-proof leather, like a bike jacket. We surfaced again, and he jerked his head back to where the others were resting from their fight. Fang was breathing heavily.

"C'mon," he muttered between gasps. "Let's get out before we get hypothermia."

I marvelled briefly at the length of his speech, then swam to the bank. We stood at the bank, shivering and trying to catch our breath. I was about to suggest drying in the sun when I looked around and realised; where was the sun? I glanced at the sky, and a huge black cloud was looming over us. And when I said black, I meant 'black-as-Fang's-wardrobe' black. But even with the absence of the sun, it should no way have been this cold. I shivered again, but then stopped as my mind focussed on the more defensive training thoughts: scanning a 360, slipping back-to-back next to Fang, getting ready to protect any member of the flock, whether we should U and A now, or wait to see what we were up against, etc.

Fang tapped my hand twice, and I turned to him. He pressed his finger to his lips then pointed straight in front of him, into a huge bush. It rustled slightly again, almost silently, but now I knew what I was looking for, I still saw it. I nodded my thanks to him, and he returned it, then helped me push the others behind us, always placing ourselves between the younger ones and danger. Iggy was further in front of them, but still behind us, considering he's the same age as Fang and me, but he is blind.

The bush rustled again, louder this time though, like our attacker knew that we had become aware of its presence, and rose out from behind the bush.

I heard Angel whimper behind me, then Iggy caught his breath as she showed him what the thing looked like. I couldn't help it myself; I gasped quietly and instinctively grabbed hold of Fang's hand for protection. The small part of me that was paying attention to trivial details was mortified at this weak gesture, and I was about to pull away when Fang closed his fingers around mine, keeping my hand connected with his. Whether this was for my reassurance or his, I couldn't tell.

Standing in front of us, about eight feet off the ground, was a huge, coal-black, obviously improved version of an Eraser. But it was all wrong; there were no human features in any part of its body, it was on all fours, its teeth were _**way**_ too sharp for my liking…and its eyes were _**red**_.

But there was only one of them, so surely we could take it? It couldn't be _**that**_ much advanced, could it?

Before I could even begin to answer these questions, it let out a short but piercing howl and charged straight at me. Fang's grip on my hand tightened, and he yanked me towards him, crushing me to his chest and literally spinning me out of the way with him. The Eraser/dog leapt onto the place where I had just been, but whirled to face us when it realised it had been cheated of its prey. Fang removed his hand from behind my head, and detached himself from me to take on a defensive stance, and I automatically copied him, deliberately putting myself further forward than him. I saw him glare at me from the corner of my eye, and I knew he was getting defensive about me; he's always worried about me, always wanting to protect me.

_Not this time, Fang,_ I thought.

The new Eraser leapt at me again, and I rolled under it, then lashed out with my leg at its back leg, expecting it to crumple. Instead, I felt as if I had kicked reinforced concrete, and just made the Eraser angrier. I saw Fang leap onto its back like a cowboy, sitting just behind the ears, and started driving punches into its skull, trying to redirect its attention. It worked, but only for a few moments, then it just tossed its head, and Fang came flying off in my direction. He recovered by rolling head-over-heels next to me, landing with a soft grunt.

"Max, it has a mind, but I can't control it!" Angel called to me, looking more scared than I had seen her in a good few months.

The Eraser had seemed to notice the others now, and was charging at them. Gazzy and Iggy were throwing God knows how many bombs at it, but it just ran straight through the explosions, unharmed and unaffected.

_Okay, Max,_ I thought, trying to calm the other part of my brain that was telling me to scream very loudly._ Think, kiddo, think. Nothing we're doing is hurting this thing, so what do you do when you just can't beat an enemy?_

"Guys!" I yelled through the battle noises. "U and A, now! Forget the backpacks if we have to! Just get in the air!"

Gazzy and Nudge managed to get their packs, as the Eraser-thing wasn't paying attention to them right then, and they shot into the air faster than I had ever seen. Fang, Iggy, Angel and I had to leave our packs to be mauled by this thing, and we just got in the air. But, of course, me being the leader, I stayed behind slightly to check everyone was in the air. So when the dog-thing jumped up to catch the "lowest bird", guess who it was; moi.

Its huge claws dug into my back as I tried to power my way upwards, and its own weight brought the daggers dragging down my back slightly, but they still clung on. I couldn't hold in the scream of pain as I felt a bad amount of blood trickling down my back, and I swore out loud when I was dragged back down to the ground by the creature. I heard Fang scream my name and the others were calling to me but knew they were no match for this thing. They were just trying to make enough noise to distract it from me. Unsuccessfully.

It snarled at me, then slashed across my chest, ripping my shirt entirely in a matter of seconds, and then continued to do the same to my torso. I squirmed about trying to find a release from the weight of its garbage-can-lid-sized paws on my chest. One claw caught my face and dragged across my cheek, causing a scar that would look impressive on my corpse.

And, suddenly, it was over. I opened my eyes in time to see the thing simply…_**vaporise**_, and a weird-looking sword clattered to the floor. Some bronze material I think. Then the effect of blood loss over-took me, and my light head fell to the floor with a thunk.

I heard the thump of someone landing very quickly from the sky. Frantic footsteps came over to me and someone skidded down on their knees to my side. They started talking before they had even reached me.

"Max, Max can you hear me? Stay awake, Max, yeah?" the voice – male, deep and velvety, but with an anxious, concerned ring to its usual indifferent tone – called to me. "Iggy, five steps, two o' clock." More footsteps, different this time. A gentle pair of hands stroked over the gash in my stomach, and I cried out as pain flared through me.

"Shhh, shhh," the voice was back, and a second, rougher pair of hands gently ran over my face and forehead.

"This is bad," a higher – but still male – voice warned me. "These cuts are really deep, and I haven't even checked the ones on her back." The velvet voice swore.

"Fang," I slurred out, finally finding my voice.

"Shhh, don't talk, Max. Save your energy, sweetheart," he told me. My heart leapt at the word; he hadn't called me sweetheart in years.

"Fang," I demanded his attention, my voice sounding stronger. "Take the others and leave…before more come." I took a breath, letting that sink in. "I trust you," I whispered.

The hands held my face more firmly , angling it to look in a certain direction. "Max," Fang hissed. "Max, open your eyes and look at me." I did as instructed, and his face – his angel face – was taut with pain and anxiety. His eyes were solidly furious. "You listen to me, Maximum Ride; I made a promise to you that I would never leave you again, and I intend to keep that promised in every situation."

"She'll never heal with just your bandages," an unfamiliar voice interrupted out moment. I tried to strain my neck to see the newcomer. "I've got medical supplies that you can give her, and she should be fine after a rest. But we're going to need your bandages."

I knew that the only thing stopping Fang from grabbing this guy's "medical supplies" and giving them to me was his acute sense of paranoia; this stranger could be an enemy, and when Iggy, Fang and I are distracted, he could take the younger kids back to the School.

"Fang, it's okay," my baby informed us, her voice quivering slightly. "He's the one who threw the sword and saved Max. And he knows about us."

I stiffened automatically, but relaxed almost immediately when I felt the consequent pain igniting again. But I also relaxed because, since he had saved me, surely he was a friend? Or was my life just so twisted that someone could save me just so that they could kill me themselves?

"Fang, she's right. I –"

"Introductions later, Seaweed Brain," a girl's voice stopped him. I heard everyone's heads turn to the source. "That kid needs help, and she needs it now."

Her voice had that kind of voice I would usually have – if I didn't have a great big freakin' _**hole**_ in my chest.

The boy sighed. "Alright, Annabeth. You got the kit?"

"Yeah."

I heard Iggy get up and drag his backpack over to me, searching for bandages in it. Fang still kept a hold on my hand, gently but reassuringly stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. On the other side of me, I heard the new-comer and "Annabeth" getting their own instruments out. I heard the boy speak again, this time to me.

"Hey, Max. Can you hear me?" I nodded in reply.

"Okay, there's this drink I'm holding, and I'm gonna need to you drink it. This is gonna be awkward since you can't really move, so I've put a sports' bottle cap on it. It might still run down you though."

"Okay," I said, trying to push the uneasy feeling about this boy out of my brain. He placed something to my lips, and I took a sip, expecting something that tasted really disgusting. What I wasn't expecting was my mom's chocolate chip cookies, fresh out of the oven, to greet me. Wow, this stuff was like magic.

I hurt to move in the process of swallowing because of my stomach muscles being ripped, but the mysterious substance tasted amazing. I greedily sucked down gulps of the mixture, but Annabeth's voice jerked me from my trance, even though it was only a whisper.

"That's enough, Percy."

The bottle was removed from my lips, and I frowned at its disappearance. A different hand came down on my head for the briefest moment; Percy seemed to understand my chagrin.

"I know it tastes nice," he said. "But too much of this can kill you."

"Okay," I replied weakly.

There were a few more minutes of silence apart from Fang telling Iggy where my injuries were worse and shooting the occasional reassurance at either me or the younger kids. Eventually, he leaned down to whisper in my ear, and squeezed my hand slightly.

"This is going to hurt," he admitted. I was about to breathe in deeply but thought better of it.

"Don't let go," I commanded. I was already scared, and I needed something to hold onto consciousness and sanity if it was going to hurt even more.

"I never will," he promised in nothing more than a breath of wind.

The bandages were put on me, and I moaned in pain almost every five seconds. If I hadn't been holding them in for the flock's sake, I'm sure that I would have moaned every two seconds. Percy and Annabeth also gave me a weird kind of food, but I didn't feel as lethargic and drained once I had eaten it.

I heard the flock and the newcomers conversing as to how they were going to move me. Where they were going to move me to was already sorted; Percy and Annabeth said they were staying at a place which was one of the safest places they have ever known.

God, let's hope their assumption was right. Blackness soon overtook that thought.

**Percy's POV**

A pegasus. That's what we needed; she couldn't fly at all (she had completely blacked-out), and if the black-haired bird-kid – Fang, I think it was – carried her, her back would be jostled around too much, and it would open her wounds again. I whistled loudly twice – one for me and the girl, the other for Annabeth – and two pegasi came thundering from the sky, one of them, my faithful Blackjack.

_Yo, boss! Need my help again?_

"You bet," I replied, ignoring the strange looks I was getting from the bird-kids, and the stares they were giving the flying horses. "This one's badly hurt by guess-what sent from the Underworld."

_Ugh! I've always hated dogs! Especially those ones!_

"I know what you mean. Okay, I'll hold onto her round her front, but you gotta be careful when you're flying, because she's been mauled on both her front and back. I don't want those wounds re-opening."

_Got it, boss. Smooth and easy, you can count on me._

"Appreciate it, Blackjack. Alright…"

I bent down to Max, and tried to get her onto Blackjack's back, but even with Annabeth's help, I was struggling. Fang came up beside me and shifted her gently but enough to get her securely onto the pegasus' rear, then he held her in position whilst I climbed on next. I held her to my chest with one arm, then linked the other around Blackjack's neck. Annabeth had got on her own pegasus, and I glanced down at the awestruck bird-kids.

"Follow us in the air," I said. But I hesitated; I knew I owed these kids more. "I know this looks confusing, and I remember what it felt like for me. But it's complicated to explain, so I'll be happier to do it with the experts around me to help me, and we'll explain when Max is awake."

"Which will be…?" the eldest blonde boy asked me. I did a quick calculation of their supposed heal-time, then shrugged.

"She'll be awake by tomorrow morning, then she'll be able to actually walk around by tomorrow night at the latest."

"Thanks," the blonde one called me back just before I took off. "I think I can say that on behalf of all of us. We owe you big time."

I smiled at him, then remembered that this one was the blind one, so I said, "You're welcome. Now, come on; we need to get Max into a bed and give her some proper treatment."


	2. Arrival, couldn't think of better title

**My apologies to all my fans who have been waiting for ages for this update, and on my other stories (or story, considering practically no one has reviewed my second story (my thanks to the people who have)) but I've been pretty busy, then had a mind-block. But whatever, here's the second chapter.**

**Chapter 2: Arrival**

**Fang's POV**

_Okay, Fang. You heard Percy; she'll be awake by tomorrow morning. She's gonna be fine, breathe, buddy._

_Err…yeah she'll be awake, but she won't be able to move for a whole 8 or 9 hours._

_So you can just sit with her and talk, to make the time go faster. She won't have to move that much._

_And she'll be wincing at every wrong twitch of your finger._

Ah, I love the silent arguments I have with myself.

As soon as Percy and Annabeth left us with those reassuring words, I motioned upwards telling the others to go up first, then I'd follow them. They did as I told them to, and I checked around for any other backpacks or supplies we had left, then I pushed myself up into the air, powering my wings up and down to catch up with the others. I flew to the front of the flock, glancing over at Percy's flying-horse thing to check that Max was okay. She was still unconscious, and she obviously still had two gaping holes in her, but she didn't look any worse than she was meant to.

All the way through this journey, that was pretty much my occupation – constant worrier about the girl I love.

Whoa, um, okay. I didn't mean that. The last bit, I mean. I mean, I _**don't**_ mean the last bit but…awww shit.

"I can kind of hear her, Fang," a small, cute voice cut through my thoughts. I turned to Angel's face, taut with concentration. "It's only flashes, but at least her brain still works. I can't tell if what she's thinking about is pain though." Her face relaxed, but only to take on the expression of worry and distress. Probably a mirror of my own expression.

_Can you figure out what Percy and Annabeth are thinking about? Anything that can help explain all this?_ I asked her silently.

She shook her head. _They're only thinking stuff I don't understand. Like Percy was just thinking 'I hope Chiron can help us explain this to them.' You know who Chiron is?_

I shook my head as well. Chiron? The name sounded familiar, but I had no idea where I had heard it from. So, it was knee-jerk reaction for me to next think, _I wonder if Max would recognise it_. I stopped myself as realisation hit me once again, and I automatically looked back at her face, still taut with pain.

_Oh, God, Max. Please be okay. Please wake up and be okay._ Wow, déjà-vu much?

**Okay, for those of you who don't understand, that last line was what Max had said to Fang in the Angel Experiment, just before she had kissed him. And I'm not sure if that's how you spell déjà-vu, but oh well.**


	3. Sanctuary

**Chapter 3: Sanctuary**

**Max's POV**

The pain in my chest – both front and back – made it obvious that I was alive. I still hadn't opened my eyes yet, just in case the School had captured me, and it would be best to have the element of surprise on my side. In the air, the weird combined scents of fresh water, wood, sea water, flowers and strawberries reached my nose. It smelt like a nice place, and I didn't think I was at the School (unlikely), unless they had thought they were being cruel to us mutant freaks and decided to relocate to a nice place (practically impossible). Children were playing outside, crying out with joy at the amount of sun and heat probably, having water fights or simply playing games. Nope, definitely not at the School.

But that didn't mean to say that I wasn't with enemies of some sort.

"Percy, she should be waking up soon," said a familiar voice. Where had I heard it from?

"'Kay. Thanks, Annabeth."

Wait, Percy? Annabeth? Weren't those the two who had saved me and helped me and the flock? Surely they couldn't be enemies? I mean, Annabeth didn't say that I was waking up in that 'she'll be waking up soon, get ready to torture her' kind of way that the whitecoats use. She said it in a 'God, I hope she doesn't attack us' kind of way. I decided to risk it.

"Whoa, hey there, Max. Were you listening, or something?" Percy asked, noticing my open eyes.

"More or less, only for a few moments though, then I decided to see if I was anywhere I didn't want to be."

"Nah, don't worry; you're safe, and so are the rest of your flock, but they've been sleeping in cabins we have here. They may come and see you in a few minutes. But…err…don't try to move until later this evening, because you're pretty mashed up."

"Yeah, I feel it," I replied.

"Percy?" a voice called from outside. I hadn't heard this one before; it sounded like it belonged to a middle-aged man, but it seemed to ring with wisdom through years that he shouldn't have lived through.

"Coming," Percy called back. He looked at me apologetically, but I nodded to him, almost as if giving him permission to leave me.

As soon as he left, I looked around the room, or as much as I could lying down. **(Please don't shoot me down if I get this wrong; this is just how I imagined it)**. The room I was in was all wooden, and by the look of it, had been here for a while. The wood was a very healthy golden colour though, and the bed I was lying on was comfy enough. The frame was wooden and so was the bedside table, where bottles of weird stuff were in them. They were probably medical supplies for me, but I decided not to touch them.

I suddenly realised there was something off about the room, and looked around again. I noticed a slight haze in the opposite corner to my bed, and grinned at it.

"You're getting better at this, but so am I," I told it.

A set of white teeth spread across the wall, and Fang reappeared into view, returning my grin. I was so relieved to see someone I knew well that I pushed all Max-like thoughts out of my head, and reached out one hand to him. What shocked me even more was that he walked over without a second thought, taking it in his own tough hand before kneeling by my bed, placing his chin on the mattress to look at me better.

"How do you feel?" he asked me quietly, his breath fanning over my face, momentarily stunning me. I tried to regain my dignity by chuckling.

"Like I wanna go springin' with the pixies, Fang," I told him sarcastically.

The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, but his eyes remained deadly serious. He brought my hand in front of his face and stared down at it, tracing swirling patterns on it with his finger.

"You scared me so much then," he breathed, still not looking up. "The way everyone was looking at you when we brought you to this place…their expressions ranged from stuff like 'She's lucky to be alive' to 'She'll never make it'. I didn't know which one to believe." He sighed, finishing one of his designs with a flourish. "Poor Angel was petrified. She kept on concentrating to hear your thoughts. By the time we convinced her you were stable, she was practically dead on her feet. I carried her to our cabin."

Being very un-Max-like again, I lifted my hand to under his chin to make him look up at me, resting it on his cheek once he did.

"I'm here now," I reassured him. "And I'm alive. By tonight I'll be walking around again."

He placed his hand over mine on his cheek, smiling slightly – but warmly – at me. "Yes, you will. But until then, I have given myself the position of entertainer." He winked at me, making my heart rate go haywire.

"This should be fun," I laughed, and he joined in with his own version.

"I'd know that laugh anywhere," another smiling voice came from the doorway. I smiled back at my family gathered there, all looking relieved that I was awake. I stretched my arms out as far as I could, and they all ran forward towards me. But Angel paused halfway, then darted back to Iggy, who had been left in the doorway, not knowing where to go. He smiled gratefully at Angel when she took his hand and led him forward. The sight made me want to cry with pride and happiness.

Fang moved out of the way so the others could have their moment with me, then Angel turned around to face him, reaching her arm out to him.

"Come on, Fang. Aren't you part of the flock?"

His eyes sparkled as he saw little Angel letting him into this reunion, but he didn't hesitate to rush back to me, placing his arm around Angel and me being the two next to him. My heart swelled at this gesture that we were always together no matter what happened. Apparently it was the same for Fang, because – behaving incredibly out of character – he leant over and kissed Angel lightly on the top of her head. She snuggled up to him, burying her face in his shoulder, not at all surprised.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but for me, it wasn't long enough. I felt ironically whole and in one piece with the people I loved most all around me, all together and supporting each other.

We finally, reluctantly, let each other go, and the others either sat on the floor, or copied Fang by pulling up one of the two chairs there and sat by me.

"So do you guys like this place?" I asked them, still cheerful from our little moment.

I received a chorus of "yeah"s and "s'alright". Fang just shrugged. Typical.

"What's it like then?" I pressed. "I heard you guys slept in cabins."

Nudge Channel: on. "Yeah, it was really crowded though, but the kids there were really cool. They know about our wings, and asked if they could have a look, and I showed them mine, and they thought they were really cool, so, yeah, I liked them after that. And then I watched them doing these weird obstacle courses that looked really dangerous for the rest of the evening, and they went swimming in the seashore they've got just down the hill, and there are other cabins too, but they're all really different and weird-looking. Like some of them have got plants and flowers on the window sills, and others have shells and stuff like that. Percy and Annabeth said they'd explain everything this evening when you can walk again, but I think they're really uneasy about telling us, like they're hiding something really bad. Do you think they're hiding something, Max?" She said all this in two breaths. I was beginning to wonder if this was a new power for her.

"Nudge, honey, I haven't really had time to assess them on the 'lying' or 'hiding something' factor, because the first time we met them, I was semi-conscious, and I've only just woken up now."

"Well," Iggy put in. "Nudge has pretty much summed-up what I was going to say. There is only one thing I would like to add: there are really weird girls here."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm rolling my eyes, Ig. Trust you to be looking at the girls." I turned to Fang. "And I suppose you were the one who described them to him?" He smirked at me. "Sexist pigs," I muttered.

"But these girls were weird," Fang defended himself, speaking for the first time since the kids came back in. "Their eyes are really freaky; they're like…acid green. A lot of them were really pretty, but then a lot of them were hooked up with these – and I'm not joking here – goat people. Max, please don't look at me like that, honestly, these guys seemed pretty normal on top, save some of them had horns on their heads, but where their legs should be are goats' hooves."

My eyebrows shot up sceptically. Fang just shrugged in that way that suggests "Fine, don't believe me, but it's the truth."

"This guy in a wheelchair is vice runner of this place," Gazzy said. "Chiron is his name, but I like him a lot more than the actual head of this place, because the head is really grouchy and mean. Mr D, he calls himself."

Fang suddenly smirked at something, and he leant down to whisper in my ear. "Mr Darcy."

We both looked at each other for a moment then chuckled to ourselves. I then sighed.

"How much time has gone by?" I asked dully.

Fang twisted his folded arms to glance at his watch. "A grand total of…ten minutes." I sighed again, frustrated. "Bored already?" Fang asked.

I nodded. "Dying of it."

The rest of the day went by much like that; me being bored, the others being entertaining. They told me about the landscape around this place, and how Percy and Annabeth said that this place was protected in a way we'd never seen before; none of the things that had been chasing us previously, or even that thing that attacked me yesterday could get in. The kids were very happy about this, and I got to admit, I was pretty thrilled myself; for once in our lives, we were actually protected, we were safe. If this turned out to be a decent place, we might even stay here. All through the morning discussion though, Fang kept quiet, answering only to the occasional question someone would throw his way. He would just sit forward, elbows on his knees, chin on his hands, staring at me. He barely blinked. It was quite unnerving to be stared at by a guy like Fang; every time I looked at him, I seemed to get lost in the intensity of his gaze. But he wouldn't be the one to break it.

There was only one awkward incident in the day, awkward in both sense of the word: upsetting and guilty, and also embarrassing. When everyone left me to go and get their lunch, I had decided to be brave, and tried to stand up and walk around the room. I did so without much fuss, gritting my teeth at the slight pain. I had thought I might take a look at my scars, and carefully lifted up my T-shirt, looking at the criss-cross, angry pink gashes, making my skin uneven. It didn't look pretty.

At that moment, I had heard a gasp, and spun around to face the door, T-shirt still up, wincing slightly at the pain. Fang stood in the doorway, holding two make-shift trays with food on them, head down, eyes closed. His knuckles were white on the trays. I pulled my shirt back down, and waited in silence. Fang opened his eyes finally, his hands relaxing, but when he looked up at me, his eyes were pained. I hated seeing that expression in Fang's eyes; it didn't fit. But he blinked and the emotion was gone. He waved one tray forward slightly.

"I brought you some food," he had muttered. I realised that the other tray was so he could eat with me. I felt my heart swell when I told myself that this was one of the many reasons why Fang was my best friend; he always stuck with me. I smiled at him, trying to make it genuine and make him forget what he had seen, both my exposed upper half (apart from my strapless bra), and the troubling scars (the reason for his unwanted pain). We ate more or less in silence.

Finally, it was late afternoon, early evening, and I was officially able to get up and out of the cabin. Fang still didn't think that I was strong enough to stand and walk on my own, so I contented him with having one of my arms over his shoulder, and his arm around my waist. As soon as I walked out of the cabin, I was struck with the beauty of the surrounding landscape; the sunset tinting the shore, the rolling hills in and around the site, the children playing and laughing together, actually playing and being _**happy**_. That word made such an infrequent entrance in my life that I had practically forgotten the meaning of it.

The strawberries from the surrounding hills gave off a scent that screamed 'I'm ripe! Eat me!' I inhaled deeply.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" Fang said in my ear, understanding. I nodded, smiling slightly.

The sky was almost clear, with a thin line of clouds just on the horizon, made a hot pink by the setting sun. I was still in my fantasy about how this must be the paradise incarnated when light, nervous footsteps approached us. I looked down from the sky to see the person approaching us, but had to struggle to keep my mouth closed.

He looked normal enough at first, because I was looking at his face; slight stubble, kind and warm eyes, shy smile, run-away, unruly, thick dark brown hair. He was wearing casual clothes as well, but coming out of the bottom of his jeans were goats' hooves. Just like Fang had told me. I looked at him, flushing in embarrassment, and he smirked in a 'told you so' way.

"Um, hi," the goat-boy said nervously. "Are you the group that Percy and Annabeth brought in just yesterday?"

"Yeah," Fang and I replied together. I glared at Fang, telling him that I could speak for myself. He just shrugged.

"Okay, good. Uh…hey. I'm Grover Underwood. I'm their best friend."

"Oh, cool. Hi, I'm Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel." I pointed to all of us in turn.

He smiled kindly at the younger kids. He seemed nice enough. "Okay, well, Percy told me that he had promised to explain things to you tonight. So, this way, because it's time."

I tried to ignore the strange jolt of déjà-vu – in a lot of movies I'd seen, 'It's time' was usually said before one of the characters was about to be put to death. Before Fang started walking with me again, I placed my hand on his arm, telling him with my eyes that he didn't need to hold me up. He frowned, obviously not happy with the thought of me walking on my own, but did as I requested, still standing near to me in case I fell.

We followed Grover further down the hill we were on, and I realised that, there on the shore, a little way away from the sea waves – probably to avoid the steadily retreating tide – a campfire was set up, and Percy, Annabeth and two men were seated around it, three of them on the floor, and one of the men in a wheelchair. He was obviously Chiron, the nicer one, and the one who was sitting next to him – the one who Percy and Annabeth have sat furthest away from – must be Mr D, the grouchy one. As we neared them, Grover went round to sit by Mr D, but his face seemed to betray that this was more out of fearful respect rather than preference.

"Good evening," Chiron said, smiling warmly at us. We smiled cautiously back, our paranoia getting in the way of our comfort around these people. "Are you feeling better?" the middle-aged man asked me particularly.

"A lot, thank you," I replied stiffly, formally.

We all remained standing, preferring to be able to make a run for it as quickly as possible. Curiously, and suspiciously, Annabeth and Percy seemed to be avoiding our eye contact, and my in-built alarm systems switched on to 'beware' mode. My muscles automatically tensed at this new information, ready to spring into action, but I almost immediately relaxed them, the flaring pain in my stomach reminding me that I was badly injured. Fang noticed the quick movement, and he took my hand and squeezed it in understanding and sympathy. I clutched at it gratefully as the aftershocks of the pain slowly died away.

"Ah," Chiron suddenly said. "Your paranoia is preventing you from trusting us enough to sit down." I tried not to let my shock show on my face.

"Stupid kids," Mr D muttered. The others around the campfire frowned. Nudge did more than that.

"Well, you haven't exactly provided the best welcome, _**Mr D**_."

Mr D turned to her, purple suit crinkling, eyes on fire. And it wasn't the reflection.

"I'd watch your words, _**sweetheart**_."

Fang started forward, pushing the younger ones slightly behind him, but Iggy and I managed to restrain him. Annabeth defended us. "Sir, we've brought them here to help them, not kill them. They live their lives on the edge simply because they have to; physical and verbal retaliation is second nature to them. Besides, they don't know who you are yet."

Mr D still glared at us, but relaxed slightly. "That's right, kids. Listen to Annabelle."

"Annabeth," I corrected angrily. "I've known her for about 24 hours, and I still know that better than you."

"What makes you think I care about you brats? You cause nothing but trouble, then you try to act all noble and sacrifice yourselves for some ″other good cause″, then all the prophecies end up true and we all die. Isn't that absolutely fantastic? You scum have completely ruined this Earth, and yet my _**lord**_ forces me to train you all. Tartarus on Earth, if you ask me."

"What makes _**you**_ think that _**we**_ care about _**you**_?" Fang shoots back. "And we have no intention of dying soon, thanks. We've gotten this far, I'm sure we can get further."

"And I'm sure _**you**_ would know all about death, wouldn't you, Raven Wings?" Mr D snarls.

At that moment, the air around the fire stretches with tension, and I can feel myself being smothered by its concentration. Percy also puts his head in his hands, his facial expression a grimace. I immediately catch on that that insult – I _**think**_ it was an insult – is part of the main subject of the following conversation.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I voice the question in the flock's minds.

Chiron sighs. "That is what we are here to talk about. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

"Okay, well, basically, you remember Greek myths? Like, the Gods, such as Zeus, Hera, and all the others? Well…ahhh, I am sure you will laugh at first, but…they are real. All of them. We shall explain what he meant later, but our own camp leader, Mr D, is in fact…Dionysus, God of wine."

And the cameras should be coming out about now. You know, the ones with 'Just for laughs' logoed on their sides. But no cameras appear, and Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Chiron keep staring at us worriedly, judging our reactions. We stare blankly back. Or, at least, I am; I can't look at the others right now. But Chiron still senses our hesitation, and sighs again, and turns to Percy.

"Would you mind giving a demonstration?"

"Oh, sure. Pick Perry for a demo, when I'm right here," Mr D, or Dionysus if Chiron's telling the truth, spits.

"You may do one first, if you wish," Chiron refuses to get angry. "And _**Percy**_ shall follow, if they are still doubtful."

Mr D scowls at us. "His Highness up there has restricted my alcohol intake, so I can only do this." He waves his hand, and a can of diet coke appears in the sand next to him. All of the flock gape at him – well, except Fang, whose eyes widen slightly – as he simply picks up the can, opens it, and takes a long gulp. He then glares at us. "Unless, of course, you wish for me to demonstrate my skill in insanity."

Fang grabs Angel's hand and pulls her behind him, and matches Dionysus's glare. I would normally be sorry for Dionysus, but I remember just in time that this guy is a god.

"Fang, don't push him," I warn.

Dionysus flips his eyebrows once. "Glad to know the brains is the leader of this circus."

I flinch from that remark, more hurt than I should be. "Just because we're different doesn't mean we're freaks. You're different aren't you? Yet people still respect you. No matter how small the minority."

Dionysus's nostrils flare, but Chiron interrupts him. "Back to the matter at hand," he announces loudly. He then stands from his wheelchair, revealing four hooves. Horse legs. Of course, he's a centaur. Why didn't I see that? Note the sarcasm. "So the gods exist, okay? And their sometimes have affairs with mortals."

"What's an affair?" Gazzy whispers.

"A sexual relationship," I mutter back, rather sheepishly.

"The children," Chiron continues, "of those relationships are called demi-gods, or half-bloods. Percy and Annabeth, here, are demi-gods. Yes, believe it or not, it is true. Now, there are certain indicators as to who is a demi-god; dyslexia, which is usually not being able to read very fast, because the letters seem to move about, ADHD, which is an inability to sit still."

"I've figured out your problem, Iggy," I nudge him, trying to relieve the tense pressure hanging above us all. Everyone, except Mr D, smiles slightly.

"Dyslexia is explained by your body being naturally used to reading Ancient Greek, and most demi-gods find it easier to read in that language. ADHD can be explained as your natural battle reflexes and instincts kicking in.

"Now, long ago, the three main gods, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, the Big Three they are called, made a pact that said they would never have anymore demi-god children, simply because they were getting to be too powerful. Unfortunately, we can see that that pact has been broken, considering Percy here is a son of Poseidon."

My eyebrows shoot up, but Percy just shrugs modestly, almost sadly.

"And now we get to the point," Chiron takes a deep breath. "All of you, in your flock, are demi-gods."

We all look at each other, completely caught off guard. I land on Fang's eyes last, and I can't seem to look away, like in the cabin this morning. His eyes are slightly open, but not all the way, and I can see some of the suspense, shock, but also happiness. Yes, I can empathise with that; we're finally getting to hear who at least one of our parents is.

"Now, a god must claim their half-blood child when they wish, send a sign of some sort. Some people go all their lives without knowing they are half-bloods. But some of your parents have claimed you; Iggy and Max, you will have to wait for your parent to claim you." My heart sinks. I meet Fang's eyes again – accidently, of course – and he gives me a sympathetic smile. He has the good graces to not show how happy he is at knowing his parent. I'm sure he's going to be ecstatic about it.

"Angel and Gazzy, you two are children of Hermes. I think he rather suits you, considering a lot of his children are blond –" Annabeth seems to flinch at that. Hmm. " – and how he is the god of thieves and mischief." Chiron looks at them pointedly and smirks. They beam innocently back at him, and he chuckles to himself.

"Nudge, you, quite obviously, are a daughter of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, and, more modern, make-up. Basically, a true girl."

Nudge squeals in delight, and Iggy covers her mouth before she can spew out anything. We all can't help but laugh at her happiness, and I ruffle her hair slightly, making sure to be extra careful not to mess it up, in case her mom vaporises me for doing so.

Then Chiron reluctantly, and slowly, turns to Fang. "Fang…uh…you…" Fang raises his eyebrows, seemingly calm, but I bet he's screaming inside for Chiron to spit it out.

Then Chiron lowers his legs slightly, and I don't realise what he is doing until Percy, Annabeth and Grover follow his example, getting down on one knee. They were bowing.

"Welcome to Camp Half Blood," Chiron says, head lowered, not looking Fang in the eye, "son of Hades."

**So sorry about the delay guys. I hope this extra long chapter will make up for it. Love y'all, and please review. If you don't, don't worry about it. I won't hold it to you.**


	4. Or not

**Chapter 4: …Or not**

**Fang's POV**

Wait a sec. What did he say? Welcome to Camp Half-Blood – probably this place's name – _**son of Hades**_? Hades. Oh. My. God. My dad is the Lord of the Dead. That's quite cool, I guess.

Hold up, why did Chiron seem reluctant? Why do Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Chiron look scared now? I'm not dangerous…am I? Oh, God, of course you are, stupid Fang. You could control who dies, basically. I'm standing near the people I love most in the world, and I could kill them. Oh, hell I have to get out of here.

I do the one thing I'm used to doing in my life: I run. As fast as I can. I cannot kill them. Get me out of here.

**Max's POV**

Emotions flash so fast across Fang's face before it finally settles on a freakishly unfamiliar one; fear. Anxiety. Before I have time to feel enough shock at him showing emotion _**period**_, he whirls around and sprints off, further down the beach, away from the camp fire, away from the cabins, away from the truth Chiron has just told him.

_Fang never acts like this,_ I think to myself, starting to worry about his safety, both mental and physical. _I've got to go after him_.

I take off after him, legs muscles pumping as fast as they can, and making sure my upper half is as straight and still as it can be, for fear of reopening the wounds. I eventually catch sight of him simply because he's tiring, but he hears me behind him, so he heads up the hill, back to the cabins. I have no choice but to take the hill slowly, but he dashes onto the pavilion in the middle of the circle of cabins, so at least he can't run away from me anymore.

I enter onto the pavilion with caution, as I might approach an injured, frightened cat. I can see him leaning faintly against the stone wall by a hearth that has obviously stored many fires. His shoulders rise and fall rapidly from his run, but he constantly runs his hand across his face as he stares into the now empty hearth, as if trying to erase the memory of what he has just been told.

"What are you doing?" I say softly, trying not the scare him.

The voice that responds sounds so different from normal; frightened. "Freaking out."

That answer alone immediately set my alarm bells off; Fang rarely shows any emotion. If he's freaking out, he sucks it in like a man. But for him to actually _**admit**_ that he's freaking out…

I walk forward more quickly, about to reassure him, but he jumps back away from me, holding his hands palm up towards me. "Please stay away from me, Max."

I frown. "Why?"

His eyes shine from fear, his muscles tensed in anticipation of another pursuit. "Because I can kill you."

I now understand why he ran; he thought he was going to kill all the flock. Anger flares up inside me at such a ridiculous theory. And anyway, even if he could do that, Fang has more than enough self-control to stop it from getting anyone he wouldn't want to get hurt.

"Fang, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" I scorn him, trying to sound like my normal self to make him feel more normal. To make him think that everything is back to normal. "If you could do anything right now, surely it would be bringing the dead _**back**_, not killing more people?"

Fang seems to see sense in my point, and he drops his hands and head, but doesn't make a move to come any closer, staring at the hearth again. I take a step towards him, but he leans back slightly, so I retreat again, questioning the act with my eyes.

"It doesn't mean I'm not dangerous," he replies, not looking at me.

I roll my eyes, exasperated, but try to distract him with small talk. "Mr D's sure a jerk, huh? Even if he is the god of wine."

He rounds on me then, jerking his head back towards me, his eyes furious black fire. "Cut the crap, Max. I'm really not in the mood for it. I've just found out that I'm more of a freak than I thought."

"_**What**_ you are doesn't mean two shits in this world, Fang," I retort, an angry reflex from his bite at me. "It's _**who**_ you are that matters."

The sudden silence rings out in the pavilion, but I restrain my tongue from the urge to fill it as I let Fang digest that, scared of what his reaction will be. Eventually, he speaks, more softly.

"I think I read that on the back of a Corn Flakes packet." I smile, glad to know he's making an effort to be his usual self.

"Makes sense," I reply as quietly. "It's where I get most of my wisdom."

He huffs a humourless laugh out through his nose, his mouth not even twitching from his confused, frustrated frown.

"I can't stay here," he says eventually, moving back to the subject at hand.

I sigh sympathetically. "Well, the kids like it here, and I think they deserve some break. I think we should stay here for…a…while…"

I trail off at the look he is giving me; slightly amused yet apologetic and anticipating. He turns fully towards me, finally stepping closer, looking directly into my eyes now, searching for something. For what?

"I didn't mean 'us', Max," he says slowly, quietly. "I meant 'me'. Only me."

He continues to stare into my eyes as I grasp his meaning. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open when he speaks again: "You and the kids can stay."

I immediately react, but stutter, trying to find something to say. Eventually I choose the simplest response I can think of.

"No. I-No! I can't believe you – no! No, y-you said you wouldn't leave me again, and-and I'm holding you to that, Fang! How can you even think – no, I'm not letting you go anywhere!" I latch onto him, throwing my arms around his shoulders, crushing my body close to his annoyingly tall and muscular one. Strange as my action is (these are getting far too frequent), Fang brings his own arms around me, completely contradicting what he had said a few minutes earlier about him being too dangerous.

"Max, when I made that promise, I meant it with every cell in my body. But that's because I never thought I would be this dangerous, this much of a risk to you and the flock. Imagine what would happen if I lost it around Angel." I can't help but flinch at the mental image he puts in my head. "Exactly."

I just clutch him tighter, burying my face in his jacket, inhaling the scent – woodsy and dark, mysterious – that I just can't get enough off right now. He simply sighs, realising I'm not going to back down easily. "Max, do you want to know the other reason I want to leave?"

"I'll listen but it doesn't mean I'll let go." My voice comes out muffled, but I know he understands me.

"Because everyone there – Percy, Annabeth, Chiron, okay, maybe not Mr D – was scared of me. They may not know it yet, but I bet that they will come to hate me." I try to stop him, but he just squeezes me tighter, telling me to shush and listen. "Because they hate my father. I mean, surely you've heard the legends, Max? Hades has a throne on Olympus, but that's it; he spends his existence down in the Underworld, and do you know why? Because no one wants him up there. All the other gods are quite happy to have him out of the way. Come on, Max; even in a freakin' _**cartoon**_ Hades is the bad guy."

"That doesn't mean his kids are!" I insist, pulling back to stare into his pained eyes again. "You've never even considered your mother; I bet that she is one of the best women in the entire freakin' planet! Because there's gotta be at least one decent parent to make someone as amazing as you!" I freeze, realising what I have just said, and hide my face in his jacket again, trying to ignore his curious gaze boring into the back of my head.

"Max is right, Fang," a small voice comes from the entrance of the pavilion, and we both turn towards it. Angel stands there, her face crushed, her eyes teary, Celeste hanging dead by her side, drooping almost as much as her wings. "_**Both**_ your parents have got to be pretty great to make the best big brother anyone could ask for."

Fang releases me slowly, almost absent-mindedly, and I step back from him, noting the loving hint in his eyes as he stares at my baby. I bet her expression could eventually make even _**Fang**_ shed a tear; she looks completely heartbroken, and I know that she has been listening in to our thoughts.

Fang slowly bends down, ending on his haunches, basically at the same level Angel would be if she was directly in front of him. He smoothly spreads his arms out wide, and Angel doesn't hesitate to sprint to him as if the biggest Eraser ever is right behind her. He picks her up, crushing her to him as tight as the other way around. Angel has buried her head in Fang's shoulder, arms unyielding around his neck. They both raise their head at the same time, and stare into each others' eyes, trading a silent conversation much like the ones Fang and I often have.

Eventually, after at least three, heart-stopping minutes, Fang speaks, not moving his eyes from Angel's. "I'll stay for now."

I race over to him, throwing my arms around them both and grinning widely. Fang removes one arm from Angel, which I replace with one of my own, to wrap around my waist. Around the back of Angel, where we are supporting her, our fingers weave together creating an un-breakable snare of friendship and agreement:

_If anything happens, I'm going._

We meet back up with the others, each of them asking if we are okay. Fang and I simply nod, not daring to tell the others the deal we have made; they would be distraught, and try to convince Fang to stay, to not make that decision he's so desperate to make. And it would only make matters worse.

We follow Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Chiron back to the pavilion. Strangely, it looks completely different to how it did before Fang…well, before. It has twelve largish wooden tables laid out in random arrangements, and one long table at the front of the pavilion. The hearth is now bursting with licking life, the flames offering some kind of warmth, comfort and security to all, whether it be taken or refused. Kids already sit at the tables, their places set with cutlery, plates and a goblet-thing. A few other places are set too, awaiting the arrival of other demi-gods to come. A few of the tables were empty, but one table was almost overcrowded.

"Why don't they spread out onto the other tables?" I ask Annabeth. "There's plenty of room."

"The table places are like we use the cabins. Each table or cabin represents a certain god or goddess. Children of that god or goddess sit at that table. The one that's overcrowded is Hermes, and it's like that because undetermined kids – kids who don't know who their immortal parent is – can stay with those guys, as Hermes is the god of travellers, so he doesn't really mind who he hosts."

"You mean we have to split up?" Iggy asks, his anxiety obvious in his voice.

"Sorry, yeah," Percy replies, genuine sympathy emanating from him. "It's tradition, you know? Barely-broken rules, and all that."

"Yo, Percy, is this my new baby brother?" a guy asks, walking up to us with the biggest Cheshire-cat grin on his face, staring down at Gazzy. **(Sorry guys; can't remember what Travis or Connor look like, and I don't have the books to check)**

"Sure thing, Connor," Percy grins at him too. "This is the Gasman, or Gazzy. He lives up to his name apparently, and from what I've heard, the kid knows bombs inside out."

"Awesome!" another boy comes to join Connor, who looks pretty similar, and I can't help my heart swelling at someone welcoming us with open arms for once.

"We could _**so**_ use you with us!" the new boy continues. He holds out his hand. "Gimme five, baby bro!"

Gazzy slaps his hand against the new boy's, his eyes shining with delight. Then the boy points to Angel, turning back to Percy. "This his sister?" Percy nods.

Both boys squat down to her height, staring at her with wonder. "Hey," Connor says soothingly. "I'm Connor Stoll, and this is my brother Travis. You're Angel, right?"

She nods, smiling sweetly at them both. They return it full-heartedly. "So can you help us with anything?" Travis asks. He leans in close. "We're thinkin' of wreaking havoc on the Ares kids. Y'know, pay their cabin a visit, see what weapons they've got hidden somewhere." He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

"I can read minds," Angel says proudly. The Stoll brothers gawk at her, and I'm wondering if they think her a freak now, but they burst out laughing, something akin to fire in their eyes flaring up as they slap hands. Connor picks Angel up and spins her around.

"Best thing that has happened to Hermes _**ever**_!" he cries. Travis is busy doing the same with Gazzy, until he turns to Percy.

"Perce, I owe you _**forever**_, man!" He puts Gazzy down. "Got any undetermined's to come along?"

"Sure," Annabeth put in, pointing to me and Iggy. "Oh, and can you stop on your way to drop Nudge of at Aphrodite?"

"Sure thing," he says, the smirk returning to his face. "I'd never pass off an opportunity to stop by the Aphrodite table." He suddenly turns to Fang, who had been ignored until now, and winks at him. "I'm sure _**you**_ know what I mean."

Fang looks startled that someone has actually _**talked**_ to him, but eventually his eyes soften and the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly. "Yeah, I can empathise with that."


	5. Fight, fight, fight!

**Forgot to tell everyone; this x-over is after **_**Battle of the Labyrinth**_**. Kind of like a replacement for **_**The Last Olympian**_**. Alright, onward and upward…**

**Chapter 5: Fight, fight, fight!**

**Annabeth's POV**

We are all still standing up where the Stoll brothers had found us, just talking and, the flock especially, seeming reluctant to part with each other to go to our separate tables.

"Hey, what's that?" Gazzy's voice breaks into my thoughts. Following his gaze, and feel Percy do the same, I see him pointing at something on the floor. Something that looks like a fissure that had opened up and then closed itself again. My eyes find Percy's, and he sighs reluctantly, knowing that if Fang finds out from someone else, it would be worse than the consequences of finding out now.

Percy clears his throat. "Um…a son of Hades…kind of…finding his power." He hangs his head in shame. "He had just lost his sister on a quest that I was leading. He blamed me for her death." He sighs again. "Truth be told, he's right. It was my quest, I was responsible for everyone there."

"Percy," I say, softly yet firmly at the same time. "It was her choice."

"I know," he allows, staring off into the woods, no doubt where he met Nico last. "It's just he's such a great kid, and he didn't deserve that." He shifts his gaze to Fang, looking pointedly at him. "They're both amazing, no matter who their dad is."

Fang's eyes soften; a thank-you, I suppose, for Percy's effort.

Then our day suddenly plummets from "looking up" to "oh, Hades".

"Hey, Jackson. These the newbies?"

**Fang's POV**

"Hey, Jackson. These the newbies?"

Wow, is it weird that I hate that voice already? We all turn to the source, Annabeth and Percy looking oh-so-comfortingly annoyed and dreading. I take in the girl's buff physique, carrying a cloak of arrogance, her cold eyes **(sorry, can't remember what colour her eyes are, and I don't have the books to check)** menacingly examining the flock, her short brown hair pulled back into a red skull-and-crossbones bandana, an evil smile stretching her thin lips. She looks like trouble; not the kind of trouble I like, not like the kick-ass-ness of Max, but the kind of trouble that a place could really do without.

"Come on then, Jackson," the girl says again, looking completely falsely enthusiastic. "Introduce me to my cousins."

Percy grits his teeth, but gestures to all of us respectively, indicating which of us is which. He then waves his hand at the girl. "Guys, this is Clarisse, daughter of Ares."

That would explain why Connor and Travis are glaring daggers at her, beside the obvious fact that she was obviously a jerk; I remember the brothers telling Angel and Gazzy about a raid they are going to do on the Ares cabin. Maybe this girl is the reason they're gonna do it in the first place. It wouldn't be a surprise.

"That's right," Clarisse continues, "and don't you kids forget that. My dad is god of war, alright? That means I can beat your underweight asses anytime into next millennium. So don't do anything to cross me."

With that, she starts walking away. However, my protectiveness of the only family I've ever known (and my complete lack of self-preservation) has other ideas for her.

"Yo, are all kids of Ares bitches like you?"

Clarisse freezes whilst the flock, Percy, Annabeth and the brothers look at me with pride, although Percy, Annabeth, Connor and Travis have dread mixed in their eyes as well.

The daughter of Ares spins around, looking evil again, and gives me a once over. "Let me guess; son of Hades?"

I can't help my nostrils flaring and my fingers curling into fists, imagining them tightening around Clarisse's neck. She nods.

"Yeah, thought so. I've heard of one son of Hades that came here. He left once he realised what he was. I believe Percy knows him, don't you, Jackson?" Percy doesn't say anything. "Yeah, these skeleton things were chasing Jackson and his friends, then this son of Hades got mad because Jackson couldn't even look after his sister on a quest. So he opened up the ground, and the skeletons were dragged back down to Tartarus. Which is the deepest pit of hell, for you newbies." She glares directly into my eyes, like she is trying to gain access to my brain. "Imagine losing your temper with one of your little buddies standing next to you now."

I dare not flinch from the image she deliberately put into my head; I don't want to show her how much that idea hurt me. The silence stretches between us, until Angel responds, obviously to something Clarisse has thought.

"Fang wouldn't do that," she insists. "He's the best brother I could ask for."

Clarisse jerks her head to look at Angel incredulously. "You can read my mind," she spits with obvious disdain. "You freak."

That's it for me. Anyone who says that sentence right there, to any one of my family but _**especially**_ baby Angel, does _**not**_ deserve to live. Fuming, I crack Clarisse across the jaw, and she tumbles to the floor, landing on her hands and knees. Dodging the hands that grab for me, I pick her up and slam her back onto one of the tables, my forearm pushing against her throat, constricting her windpipe. Leaning down to level my face with her, I breathe, threateningly, "Call her that again." I press harder against her trachea as she grabs at it, trying to relieve the pressure. "Give me a reason," I dare her, my eyes no doubt burning coals.

A realisation comes to me in the sudden icy silence of the pavilion; I'm becoming too much like…what I am. I'm relishing the idea of killing Clarisse here and now, and my dad is Lord of the Underworld. He _**lives**_ with death, cherishes it. If I follow through with what my body (and justice!) is begging for right now, I would be proving Clarisse right. There is no way in hell – well, I guess I have to say the Underworld now – that I am letting this bitch win over me. I release her, taking sickening pleasure in the way she's gasping for breath.

"I suggest you keep away from me, my family and my friends."

"You and I both know that you just proved my point, Dead Boy," Clarisse shoots back, and I restrain myself from pummelling her again.

By the time she's walked off, I'm shaking and breathing heavily with contained anger. Clarisse's accusation of the son of Hades making that pit in the floor because he got angry pops into my head, and fear suddenly takes over for the anger. I mustn't get angry around the others. I could hurt them. Keep it cool, Fang. Keep it cool…

"Hey, you okay, man?"

After taking deep breaths through my nose, I open my eyes (wow, I didn't realise I had closed them). I think of other things to distract me from the explosive emotion; Angel hugging me on this very pavilion just forty minutes ago; Nudge's face when she was told she had another family besides us, when she was told who her mother was; Max's caring eyes watching me when I said I would be packing up; Max's smile when I had brought her dinner so we could sit together a few hours ago; Max; Max…

"I'm fine," I answer. Walking up to my side, Travis lays a hand on my shoulder.

"That's why we want to raid the Ares cabin," he explains, "'cause their leader, and their dad as a matter of fact, are complete assholes."

Silently agreeing with the son of Hermes, I stare after Clarisse, contemplating my recent actions…and the kind of publicity and reputation they'll get me. I resist grimacing in order to keep up my habitual mask.

"I shouldn't have done that, should I?" I ask Travis. He turns to look directly into my eyes, surprisingly unflinching from whatever he finds there. "I _**really**_ shouldn't have done that, should I?" I repeat.

He nods for a few seconds, mulling it over, then stutters slightly. "Uh…y…it…was good to see it done to her for once."

Groaning quietly, I sag my shoulders down, burying my face in my hands, trying to wipe away the curse of my heredity.

"Hey, man," Travis insists. "Come on, it's not that bad; you did what I would have done for any one of my half-brothers and -sisters. You stuck up for them. That, I admire."

"Don't take this the wrong way," I warn him, my voice muffled by my hands before I pull them down to look at him again, "because I'm genuinely curious. But why are you talking to me at all? Aren't you scared that I'll use some kind of necromancy voodoo and kill you, maybe other people in this room as well?"

"Um, no," Travis responds immediately, "because we both know that's absolute crap."

I raise my eyebrows at him, sceptic of his view.

"Okay, sure you're a son of Hades," Travis explains, "and, I'll admit, it is kind of creepy at how well your taste in wardrobe reflects that fact." He grins. "But other than that, you're just another demi-god, just one who's the child of a god not many of us have ever met. Same for the children of said god; I believe Percy's met two of them, but –"

"The sister died and the brother felt he didn't belong here so took off," I finish. "Yeah, I've heard the story."

"But look," he continues, "don't you go thinking that. 'Cause it's wrong; you're welcome here."

Clicking my tongue in frustration, I voice my doubt. "Not by Ares cabin."

The son of Hermes grins again. "Yeah, but they barely welcome anyone, unless they're children of Ares."

Flipping my eyebrows, I feel the corner of my lips turning up slightly at the probability of that statement. Then I sigh, realising we need to get back to our tables for dinner.

"So," I ask. "Because the son of Hades had taken off, I guess I got a table to myself." I look down slightly to see Travis grimacing in sympathy.

"Listen, Hermes is god of travellers, so he's not too picky on who he houses. You can sit with us, maybe sleep in the same cabin and everything if you want."

I shake my head, ignoring my body's yearning to accept the offer. "No thanks; I need time to myself anyway. You know, to think things through…"

He looks at me for a long while, and I resist the urge to swallow nervously (you know, like people do in the movies) whilst he tries to read my eyes. I put my walls up again, willing him to leave me alone. Eventually, he exhales a deep breath and nods.

"Alright, man," he allows. "But remember; anything you need, just ask and we'll try to sort it out with Chiron."

"Sure thing," I promise.

"Oh, and uh," he leans forward. "Watch your back; Clarisse never forgets a grudge, and she hates anyone who betters her."

"Duly noted," I sigh.

"One more thing." I turn to him, wondering what he has to say now. Smirking smugly, he holds up a familiar black leather wallet.

"I take it you'll be wanting this back."

Staring at the wallet, I pat my jean pockets, feeling their surprising lack-of-wallet-ness, and can't help the smile spreading across my lips, no matter how depressed I am.

"Hey," I say indignantly, snatching the wallet and checking the measly amount money left inside.

He shrugs. "Hermes is god of thieves too."

Glancing up at him, I narrow my eyes. "I'm never gonna trust you again, you realise that?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Wow, you trusted me to start with?"

I flip my eyebrows again; he got me there.

"Okay," Percy calls us over. "Now that we've had our fair share of the daily drama of the camp, let's go eat. I'm sure you guys are starving what with your 3000 calories per day RDA. But I'll give you guys the basics before you go to your respective tables.

"First of all, Nudge, Aphrodite table is over there, so you can sit with them; Max, Iggy, Gazzy and Angel, you'll be sitting with Hermes, over in the corner **(sorry guys; I don't know the layout of the pavilion)**; Fang, sorry, man, but Hades is in the other corner, just by the hearth. If it's any consolation, I'll be eating alone too."

_It isn't, Percy, but I appreciate the attempt._

"Now," he continues, "for food. **(don't shoot me for this; I can't remember what happens here either)** Okay, we've got the plates in the right places, and the food is in the middle of the tables on platters. Put the food on your plate, but don't start eating, because each table goes up one at a time to throw their best piece of food into the flames in the hearth, 'cos the gods like the smell of burning food. Some people say a prayer or whatever when they're doing it, but you don't have to. Now, the goblets are in the right places too, and they are wicked cool; just say what you want to have in them, anything, and it will be in there." Gazzy's face lights up at this, but Percy smirks down at him. "But it's got to be non-alcoholic." Gazzy's face falls again.

Connor grins again, ruffling Gazzy's greasy hair. "You're a son of Hermes, all right," he smiles fondly. But his face shifts to something more melancholy, and I frown at him, questioning.

"Shame, huh bro?" he ignores me and asks Travis instead, who nods in agreement.

"What's a shame?" Max queries before I can.

Percy clears his throat, oh-so-subtly. "Well, let's go and sit down, shall we?" I roll my eyes at his attempt of deviation, but let it go for now and turn to stride to my table without saying anything to the others of the flock – even though Angel's calling me back – when Percy stops me.

"Oh, hold up, Fang. I got something for you." I turn back to him and watch as he pulls a cream-coloured A4 folder from behind his back, and he hands it to me. I raise my eyebrows in question. Percy sighs. "Whilst we were trying to find out about you guys, we figured the best place to look would be the place where they kept you: ITEX. So we went there, but we could only find one set of records before we were distracted by monsters coming in, like hellhounds – the thing that mauled Max."

I tense in anger as I remember the image of Max when Percy had got rid of that flea-bag. I flick my eyes to Max to see her probably-unconsciously touching the scar it had made on her face. In that instant I feel huge pity for Max; she's strong, no doubt, and she constantly claims not to worry about her appearance. But she's a girl, and a girl's main objective in life is to find fault with herself, often in her appearance. Now Max has this ugly puckered line across her perfect face, and I know that she's feeling self-conscious because of it.

Percy's smile brings me back from dreams of making humongous hot-dogs. "So," he continues, "it is my duty to welcome you to Camp Half-Blood…" he pauses to grin full on, "…Christopher Sanchez."

**Wow, okay, finally got it done. My bad guys; I'm really sorry. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. I should be able to write so much more in the summer holidays, so look forward to then.**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**


	6. Settling in

**Chapter 6: Settling in**

**Max's POV**

Fang freezes.

I've never seen him stand so still. He just continues to stare at Percy and the all-changing folder in his hands. I can't hear him, but I think I see his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as his breath picks up. He looks down at the floor, his expression clearly saying he isn't seeing it, but focussing on something unknown to me. Or maybe he's just looking down so I can't try to read his eyes. I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to reach out to him, to bring him into my arms no matter if he tenses up in someone's embrace, to comfort him in some way; I've never seen him so disorientated.

His head suddenly jerks up to Percy, still emanating the shock of that bomb Percy dropped on him, but I think only I can see the slight accusation being fired in Percy's direction. I frown; what could Percy be guilty of? I stop myself from groaning in frustration; I wish I could just read his mind! Fang opens his mouth, as if to say something to Percy, but stops himself before any sound escapes. His gaze focuses on all the members of our group.

"I'll meet you all after dinner," he says simply.

"Yeah, Fang," Annabeth puts in, "because Hades doesn't have a cabin here, so you'll be sleeping in the Hermes cabin as well as Max, Angel, Gazzy and Iggy."

Still retreating from us, Fang nods quickly, like it's an impulse reaction of courtesy (psh, yeah. Like he'd even know the meaning of the word), and he just wants to get as far away from us as possible. My chest clenches at the thought of Fang wanting to run away from me.

As soon as he realises no one's going to say anything more, Fang turns on his heel and strides briskly to his table. On passing the now-live hearth though, he pauses, glancing down at it. He turns slightly towards it, and I can see him flick his gaze down to the folder. My eyes widen in realisation, yet I make no move to stop him, nor does anyone else even though I know they've all come to the same conclusion I have. Maybe even Angel is showing Iggy what's happening.

Shaking my head very slightly, I pray Fang looks this way to see my look of disapproval, and that he hears my silent voice.

_Don't do it, Fang. That's your life in that folder. You burn that, you burn a chance of you being happier. You burn a chance of a family being happy to know their son is alive. Don't do it, Fang. Don't do it._

Almost as if he _**has**_ heard me, I see his head turn ever-so-slightly towards me. His shoulders rise up slowly, then down at the same speed. A sigh. His shoulders sag even lower, his head hangs forward and his arms drop to his side (one still holding the folder) as his muscles all relax in defeat. Again, another unfamiliar and definitely unwelcome look for Fang; utter resignation. I'm not sure if I would have preferred it if he _**had**_ thrown the folder into the fire; if it had made him happier, more Fang-like, I would have let him.

Fang walks slowly, dejectedly, to his designated table, and I find myself on the verge of tears as I watch him, wishing I had my best friend back.

Percy and Annabeth walk off to their own tables, the latter being greeted by her relatives, the former being greeted by solitude. Feeling bad for Percy and Fang, I ask Travis about a solution whilst we walk to our table, dropping Nudge off on the way.

"Why doesn't anyone from other cabins sit at other tables?"

Travis just shrugs. "It's just not a done thing. Annabeth and Grover have sat at Percy's table once before, when times had got really bad." He breaks off quickly, like he's realised he has said too much. "Anyway," he recovers, "it's like a rule that's never written down. You never know when you could be zapped by some god or goddess for crossing them. Everything from the tables to the cabins is in respect for those gods or goddesses. If they don't think too highly of either you or your parent…" He shrugs again.

On that cheerful thought, we sit down to start eating.

All kinds of food are laid out in the middle of the larger, but still over-crowded, Hermes table. Travis and Connor sit down first, with Angel on one side of Connor, me on the other, and Gazzy on the right of Travis, Iggy flanking him on the other side. The brothers both grin at each other, then each of us in turn before turning to the front of the pavilion. At that moment, Chiron and Mr D enter, walking towards the chairs set out for them across a table perpendicular to the cabins'. A silence falls across the pavilion as Chiron takes a seat whilst Dionysus – god of assholes – remains standing.

"I suppose I'm obliged to welcome all you brats to yet another Hades-forsaken summer at Camp Half-Blood. As of last year, Ares cabin holds the record for capture the flag." A table full of buff, mean-looking kids erupts into cheers, slapping each other on the back and jeering at the other tables.

"Yeah, yeah, hoorah and all that pointless nonsense. Anyway, aren't we lucky to be receiving more pipsqueaks this year? I'm not bothering to introduce them, they can do that themselves, but there are a few in Hermes, one in Aphrodite, and one in Hades."

The whispering starts after he announces Fang's father, and I glance at him, worrying for his feelings (that's a first; I never knew he had them before). His dark orbs, under scowling brows, attempt to burn a hole in the table, and I swear the shadows around him seem to gain tangibility. I sincerely hope that it's just his wings rising slightly (as is the norm when Fang's angry – sort of his version of raising hackles), rather than menacing shapes acquiring density and the ability to cause harm. There have been many opportunities before for me to be scared of Fang, like when we're fighting something. But I'm only feeling that fear now. I turn back to the others, scolding myself for thinking that Fang would ever do anything to hurt the flock.

"Hey, Travis. How come we didn't know about this before? 'Coz surely the children of more powerful gods would have more powerful and noticeable gifts or abilities or whatever."

"That's true," Travis says. "I remember Percy saying when he first realised that he must be difference 'coz he got angry at some bitchy girl and water grabbed her and pulled her into the fountain." He looks around, then leans closer. "I'm sorry I'm using him as an example, but his dad's definitely powerful. Can Fang do anything special? I mean besides the flying."

"He can go invisible," I tell him, thinking he is one of the few people here who I can trust.

"There you go then," Connor puts in. "Hades has thing helmet-of-power thing. It can make him invisible, little more than shadow, so he doesn't make a sound, and he travels through shadows. Hades must have given Fang's invisibility as a gift."

"What do you mean 'he travels through shadows'?" Iggy asks.

"Think of it like shadows being Grand Central Station, except with the difference of being able to go anywhere in the world. Shadows are all linked because they're all made of darkness."

"Awww, man," Travis whines wistfully. "Think about being able to shadow-travel; we'd be the best thieves ever."

"I feel ya, bro," Connor agrees. "Only the most powerful can shadow-travel comfortably though; I've heard it takes a lot out of you."

Tuning out their ambitious longing for that ability, I look back over at Fang. He's still staring down at the table, and my eyebrows pull together in sympathy. I will him to hear my thoughts, to hear the fact that his dad gave him a gift, that his dad has shown some kind of recognition of him other than claiming him. At least his parent's claimed him; I still have to wait with Iggy for my parent to actually say 'Yep, she's mine.' They're probably protecting their dignity; I bet they're disappointed with me. I have such a big mouth, I can't take emotions, I can't even keep the others safe for very long before we get into _**another**_ fight.

Almost as if he can feel my eyes on him, Fang looks up at me, he face smoothing out into neutrality. I still grimace though, at the hidden pain in his eyes. Wanting to let him know I'm here, I subtly push my right hand out along the table, palm lifted slightly from the table-top, fingers bent forward slightly. Any demi-gods watching won't understand this message; when Fang and I were in the School, some of the experiments performed made even us break. When that happened, the other one, who had stayed in their cage whilst the other was being tortured, reached through the bars of the cage, palm lifted slightly, fingers bent forward a little. The one who needed the support would reach through the bars of _**their**_ cage and touch their fingers to the others'. When our arms were long enough, we would even link our fingers together, holding on to each other.

Fang sees and recognises this signal, and I can see his eyes softening. With my raptor vision, I see Fang's lips turn up slightly at the corners, and he copies the motion with his left hand, reaching out to me as if there isn't an entire pavilion – or an entire continent – between us. For once, since we escaped the School, Fang's actually accepting help from someone, from _**me**_ no less. Trying to push my luck with this new development, I nod my head to the seat next to me and look pointedly at him. He shakes his head, declining the offer.

_Why not?_ I mouth to him.

He sighs again, diverting his gaze from me temporarily, then subtly taps his temple with his finger, gesturing to the folder on the table afterwards: _I need to think about this_.

I raise my eyebrows, pointing my finger at both of us in turn. _We'll work it out together._

Again, he shakes his head. He points his finger at him, letting it linger there for much longer than I did. _I need to do this alone._

For some reason, this sentence makes me smile. Not a wry smile, a pure, genuine, warm smile. I can't use gestures to signal this, so I mouth to him again, exaggerating the movement so he can read it. _You're never alone_.

Pausing, he takes in that message and, thankfully, he smiles in the same way at me. Proper, full-on smiles. He looks back down to his plate, then, as if on second thought, he looks back at me, and mouths two words that I have rarely heard spoken by him, much less seen in his eyes that he meant them.

_Thank you._

We load up our plates with the food, speaking our choice of drink to our cups (do you know how stupid you feel when talking to a goblet?). Then we are expected to get up from our places, one table at a time, and give some of the food to the gods. The other tables go up first, and I happily watch Nudge's beaming face as she walks forward with her biological half-siblings. Then it is Hermes cabin's turn, and we all stand up, bringing our plates with us. One by one, my cabin-mates push the best part of their meal into the flames, uttering some kind of prayer. Travis steps up to the hearth with Iggy, telling him which part of his plate the best food is on. Even with my enhanced hearing, I can't hear what he says.

Then it's my turn.

I never thought such a simple task could be so daunting, yet when I approach the hearth, the flames seem much more hostile, and the silence around me is almost as suffocating as the heat coming from the hearth. I swallow softly, hoping no one sees, and lean forward, pushing my plate nearer the licks of dangerous light. Anticipating some kind of violent reaction, I tentatively push the largest piece of steak into the fire. It hisses, and, contrary to my fears, nothing happens except experiencing a weird scent of a clear day, when the wind blows across the bluest sky, through dew on the grass, bringing that fresh smell of a new day.

_Please,_ I pray silently. _Whoever you are, if you are proud of me, claim me as your own._

Nothing.

The grief – the feeling that I disappointed my parent – crushes me harder than I expect it to. Tears spring to my eyes for the weight on my chest, and I blink them back before anyone can see.

The rest of the offering passes with no fuss. When it is Fang's turn – Connor nods to him to signal so – he stands up, and walks calmly over to the hearth. The only hint at his hidden turmoil is the fact that he practically throws his piece of steak into the flames, as if he is either angry or disgusted by it. Well, it's better than him not giving anything at all.

However, once we have all eaten, something amazing happens that increases the weight in my heart: the Apollo cabin suddenly erupts into cheers, facing the Hermes cabin. Connor and Travis look at us, then their faces too show a look of delight, and start applauding us, the same as Nudge on the other table, and Gazzy and Angel next to us. Then I notice specifically where they're looking. Or more accurately, who. I turn towards Iggy, and above his head is a glowing symbol of a sun with a parchment, quill and harp in front of it.

"What's going on?" Iggy asks me.

Travis answers for me, a beaming smile on his face that I can't help but want to wipe off him. "You've been claimed, Iggy! Your dad's Apollo, god of the sun, music and poetry."

Iggy's unseeing eyes widen, and a small smile creeps onto his face. "Really? He's claimed me?"

"Sure has, brother."

The new voice makes us both turn around, even though Iggy can't see who it is. The short, cute looking boy grins at us. "Hi, I'm Michael Yew, Head of Apollo cabin." His voice changes to slightly sheepish and apologetic. "I kind of heard you were blind, so I thought you might want a hand coming to our table."

Iggy's eyes light up, and he beams up at the boy, thanking him.

"You can finish eating with your first family, for lack of a better phrase, if you want," Michael insists.

My heart wrenches as Iggy shakes his head. It is only dulled when he says: "Not everyone in my first family is here, so it doesn't really feel like my first family. I'll be happy to meet my second."

Michael grins happily again, making it evident his father is god of the sun; his smile is just as radiant.

As I turn away once I've finished congratulating Iggy, I find myself shying away from his radiant cheerfulness; now each in my "first family" have found their happiness, and my parent is too disappointed to give me mine. Well, not everyone is happy about being claimed. Instinctively, I turn towards the darkness, towards the one person who would understand the pain I feel, though he doesn't feel it quite the same.

His pools of darkness swirl in comprehension, and his eyebrows pull together when he sees my face. He sighs again, then his hand moves. I barely recognise the motion, but my heart, which seems to be doing a lot lately, soars when I do; his left hand is pushed out towards me, palm lifted, fingers slightly bent towards me.

_I'm here for you, too._

**Altogether now: n'awwww! I thought that was a nice ending. Sorry it's taken so long to update. I only write when the ideas come to me, and I've been having ideas for one fanfic I started just two days ago (it's a +Anima one, but it's not very good because I've only read the third book. Oops), so check it out if you want. Anyway, thanks for reading this. Review if you think it's worth it. If not, I won't be offended or anything.**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**


	7. Settling in for the night

**Chapter 7: Settling in for the night**

**Fang's POV**

Max always tries to be strong for the little kids. Never showing them how much it hurts. But Max and I – we have this connection that I wouldn't give up for the world. We open ourselves up to each other. Not completely, but we tell each other stuff that we would never share with the others. Anything that's hurting or stressing one – often the case with Max as I rarely ever show my emotions anymore – the other suffers with them, and supports them.

For that reason, the pain and solitude in Max's eyes cuts me sharply; she's way too strong…and beautiful…and kind…and supportive….Anyway, she doesn't deserve this. Show me one father who wouldn't be proud of a daughter like her. There is Jeb for a start; he practically worships the ground she walks on. And didn't he say he was her father? Damn him for keeping her thinking that; I would have been ashamed to have a father like Jeb.

_Be careful what you wish for, Fang_, I think glumly. Yeah, now I have my own father to be ashamed of. Great.

"Dude. Yo, Fang."

I start out of my self-pity. "Hmm, what?"

Connor Stoll smirks at me, and I try to ignore the not-quite-concealed sympathy in his eyes. "You spaced out for a second, dude. I asked if you were ready, 'cos we're heading off to Hermes cabin now if you want to come?"

I'm grateful that he's giving me the choice; he seems to understand my natural compulsion to be alone, now only amplified by the news of my father. I'm seriously considering saying that I'll stay out for a bit, but then I catch sight of Max again, standing behind the twins. Remembering how she looked just a few moments ago, I realise she needs support as much as I do. I've been her support and confidante for so long now that I can't just abandon her in a time where she may need me more than she ever has. I have to be strong for her.

"Sure, I'm done. Gimme and minute to clear up."

But Connor shakes his head. "It's alright, dude. It's not Hermes' turn to clear away the table. Our cabin is safe for duties for tonight."

Damn; there goes my delay-time to gather my old-self together. Looks like it's a quick cover-up job.

Quietly taking a deep breath, I prepare myself to be impenetrable again, sort of like acting "out of sight, out of mind". If I don't think about it, maybe I'll forget about it, and we can be all back to normal.

And maybe I'm 2% platypus.

Trying not to scowl at myself, I follow the others towards the pavilion exit, stopping on the way to say goodnight to Nudge and Iggy. It's unbearably horrible to actually be with those two and yet not following them in order to stack fists, like my family is walking away from me, not looking back or thinking twice in their own happy state. The one thing that I'm scared of has come faster than I thought it would, leaving me feeling like the carpet has been pulled from beneath my feet before I've had chance to prepare for takeoff.

We walk back to Hermes cabin, with me trying to distance myself away from the others without looking like I'm doing so. Pretty difficult to do with Max constantly glancing back at me. I wish she would just back off; okay, sure I may not be fine with who my dad is, but I want distance so I can freakin' well protect her, and she isn't making it easy if she keeps trying to get closer to me. Sure, _**now**_ she wants to get close to me, and not when I kiss her. Great, Max, thanks a lot.

_Come on, dude. Don't be such a jerk_, my brain reminds me. It's right; it's not Max's fault my dad is…well, _**him**_. It's not my fault either, but I shouldn't take my frustration out on Max. She's only trying to look out for me, and I _**had**_ silently admitted to her that I needed help in the pavilion, using our secret sign. It felt so good to connect with her like that again, reminding me of how much we've been through together already. For a moment there, a very short moment, I actually thought I'd be able to come to terms with this, with her help.

Not a chance.

Clutching on to that cursed folder that Percy gave me, I bring up the rear as the others headed into the wooden Hermes cabin. I don't even know why I've kept it; I just…okay, don't call me crazy…but I heard a voice in my head – _**Max's**_ voice – telling me to think of my family. Thing is, as soon as Max said 'family', I thought of the flock. They are the only family I've known, and yet, deep down, I want my biological family. I guess "Max" and my subconscious told me to keep the folder to keep the opportunity, even if the possibility of meeting my biological family has now gone; there's no way I can meet them, not now I know my lineage. I'm the same danger to my flock as I am to my biological family. Everything I love, everything that means something to me is in danger, and there's nothing I can do about it. I may as well move somewhere far away and remote, isolated. But I won't break my promise to Angel. To Max. Not until I have to anyway.

Inside the Hermes cabin, it's way too cramped. I'd bet anything that most of the kids in here are undetermined, their parents too lazy to say "yeah, they're mine". I wonder if some of the gods even know these are their kids. Some of these kids in here actually have the potential for being my half-siblings.

_Don't look so unhappy,_ I plead them silently. _It's not as bad as knowing, as considering…_**Hades**_…as a dad._

The beds are all wooden, and no fancy-schmancy stuff; just ordinary-looking bed-frames that look like they've been polished to a golden gleam to cover up the plainness of them. Mysteriously, there seems to be enough beds to go round, even with us newbies, although some are way close together. Talk about cosy. The Stoll brothers walk to their respective beds – no surprise that they're next to each other; makes dual-thievery missions easier to talk about – whilst Max, Gazzy, Angel and I lay our bags down next to empty-looking beds, which basically means any bed that doesn't have stuff piled on it. The others find beds close to each other, nearer the middle of the large noisy cabin, but I hang back, picking the solitary bed closer to the door; I know that I'll need to sneak out for private midnight flights much more often now, and if I pick the one nearest the door I won't wake anyone up when I get out of bed. Especially Max; I don't want her to wake up and follow me. I'll just want to be alone.

I ignore the feeling of stares into my back as I pretend to sort out the bed-sheets, sighing in comfort as I settle myself on them, hands interlinked behind my head. I know Max and Angel at least will be trying to catch my eye, begging me silently to at least spend the rest of the evening properly in their company. I can't do that yet; I need to relax and trust myself a lot more before I risk anything with them.

"Not bad, huh dude?"

Travis is standing by the foot of my bed – I guess I should call it mine now – and grinning down at my obvious contentment with the softness of a mattress.

I try to act nonchalant, and shrug. "It's alright."

"Dude, you've been sleeping rough for the past gods-know-how-long; I think you've earned the right to say 'it's nice to have a bed'."

I roll my eyes, but admit, "It's nice to have a bed."

"Knew it," he smirks, sitting at the foot of my bed, facing and gazing at Angel and Gazzy as they go around meeting their half-siblings. I turn my head to look at Max, the face of joy as Angel and Gazzy show her more and more of their new family. I can tell though; she wants to do that. _**She**_ wants to find her own half-brothers and –sisters and introduce them all to us.

_What's wrong with your old family?_ I beg her silently.

"So this place has some perks," Travis continues, breaking me out of my depressive musings and obviously now referring to more than the bed. "Maybe you should stay awhile."

There's something about the way he says that last sentence that spokes my interest. I turn to him again, and he's surprisingly staring me right in the eyes, his electric blue diamonds holding my obsidian circles. Considering this guy's dad is god of thievery, and so a master of deception, Travis is decidedly and deliberately being open with me. Showing me what he knows.

I sit up slowly, never breaking eye contact. "You know about the deal Max and I have?"

He blinks, and the communication is lost. But the intensity isn't. "I can't stop you. I know that. And I also know I can't change your mind for you. But don't shoot me down for giving you friendly advice.

"You think you're a danger to other people 'cos of your specific power, right? Well, each of the gods and goddesses can be dangerous, believe me. I've seen it. Also, duh, they're gods; they're gonna have some serious mortal-, half blood- and monster-destroying mojo. You're only more dangerous than most demi-gods 'cos you're the son of one of the Big Three. But so is Percy, if you look at it.

"And, dude, you want to run from this place 'cos you think you're a danger to people? That's exactly what we help with here. You're worried about losing control of whatever powers you may have, but at Camp Half Blood you're _**taught**_ control. You'd be running from some of the very few people who could help you."

At the end of his speech, he stops, keeping his eyes on me to watch me take that all in. I kind of get what he's saying, and yeah, I guess I hadn't thought through where I'd learn control after I ran from camp. I _**could**_ learn to harness my abilities here. But there's still that risk; the part from now, for example, to the time when I've got the hang of my powers. In that time, when my control would still be lacking, someone could get hurt.

"Nice argument," I allow him. "Pretty convincing. But, just so I know my options, you suggested that there were others who could help me control what I can do. So there _**are**_ others who I could go to?"

"Oh, sure," Travis says, with a cheery voice that isn't exactly fake, just more suspicious. "Sure, I know of one person who would be a _**great**_ teacher for that stuff."

"Oh yeah?" I ask cautiously. "Who?"

"Your dad."

As much as I had considered him a friend before, cold fury at his malicious teasing sweeps through me at an alarming speed. My muscles seem to coil and tighten in preparation for something, like the pounce of a big cat, but the tingling of something unknown – something immortal – mostly concentrated in my arms claims it wouldn't be just a pounce. I glare at him, trying to keep my anger in check, and even though he seems to realise my struggle he holds my eyes unflinchingly.

"Out of the question," I growl at him eventually.

"Well, those are your options, dude," he snaps at me. My eyebrows shoot up at his tone, the surprise of this formerly-teasing and smiling boy losing his temper cutting through my rage.

But he isn't finished. "It's us or him. Sure, we won't teach you all the cool stuff that you personally can do, but we teach you control enough that you can experiment on your own with fewer risks. If you're worried about the risks before that time, then by all means find a way to the Underworld and have a family reunion."

Okay, now _**that**_ is pushing on my last nerve. I stand up, as if to make myself more powerful than him. "If that…_**asshole**_ wanted a family reunion," I hiss at him, "he would have come to me sooner and explained things. He would have_** helped**_ me. Sure, you may have heard of me and the flock through Percy and Annabeth somehow gathering information on us all, but you have _**no**_ idea the kinds of things we've been through. Sometimes, when the whitecoats took me back to my dog-crate – I repeat, _**dog-crate**_ – I was crying, or shaking, or something else horrible, or a mixture. But I was _**always**_ wishing that someone would come along and actually treat us like the people with feelings we were. My dad's a freaking _**god**_, so he should have been able to hear me, and if he'd had any heart or care for me, his _**son**_, then he would have saved me and my family, and taken the bastards who did this to us down to hell with him when he had to go back!"

I'm breathing hard by the end of this, getting right up in Travis's face so he can see my anger, confusion and pain as to why my own father never helped me in any way. I can feel the hate welling up, slowly snaking around my entire body, claiming me with its scorching heat. I want to fight someone. I want Hades to rise up from the ground right now so I can leap on him and punch him and kick him until I have a _**god**_ on the floor and begging me to stop. I want him to suffer as he let me suffer at the School. I want–

"Fang?"

The sound of my name jerks me back down to earth, and I glance towards the source; Max and the others have stopped what they're doing and are staring at me. No, not really at me; _**behind**_ me. I peek over my shoulder, not really knowing if I want to see whatever's there, and my precognition is right. The shadows of the cabin were never that thick when I first came in, and they seem too tangible now. I need to look at them closer. No sooner have I had that thought though do the shadows actually _**move forward**_, closer to me as it I had called to them. I wish they hadn't come forward; they look horrific. Pure blackness, like the heart of evil itself…and _**sharp**_. Ready to cut any of the people staring silently at me now should I command them to. Ready to lash forwards at anyone who I'm merely annoyed with. Ready to hurt someone I could care about…

I can't let that happen. For fear of the shadows – _**my**_ shadows – reacting hair-trigger at the first person I lay my eyes on, I shut my eyes tight, conjuring their looks in my head instead. In the place where I can't hurt them. I remember how happy I had been just minutes before this whole messed up world interfered with my old one, how I'd been laughing and playing with Max before that…_**thing**_…came and ripped up one of the very few people I cared about in the world. I remember how we'd all been a family in the Big House when Max was still recovering, all huddled together and promising to protect each other simply by being there. The times when I've kissed Max come rushing back at my beckon, and I relish in the warmth I had felt then, of the feeling of her lips – unresponsive, yes, but still against mine.

As I feel myself calming down, I open my eyes cautiously. I don't dare look behind me, but I'm encouraged by the fact I can no longer see those ghastly shadows in my peripheral vision. I wait a few more seconds before I let relief and achievement wash over me. They're not the only things that overtake me though; complete and utter exhaustion – the likes of which I haven't felt in a _**long**_ time – threatens to pull me into unconsciousness, but I struggle hold my metaphorical body above the waves even as my physical body sinks to its knees. My vision goes black for just a few seconds before I stubbornly push my way back to the surface.

The first thing I notice is my family, with Max closest. They all seem to be shaking a bit, looking at me worriedly as they war with their instinct of protecting each other and my desire to be left alone. I'm honoured they even consider the latter. The second thing I notice is a set of hands around each of my wrists, holding my body upwards so I don't fall sideways. I'm still on my knees, so when I look to my wrists I also have to look up…into the smiling and proud face of Travis. I have just enough strength to move my face into a confused expression.

"Lesson one, dude," he explains. "We often use our powers when our emotions go haywire, especially anger. Anger is the most dangerous though, as you often can't control it once it's out. The only thing you had a hope of doing as a newbie was reining it back in. And you did it seriously well; I'm impressed. So there you go; as long as you keep your emotions in check, you're fine here."

He lifts me onto the bed, pats my back, then walks over to his bed as if it was just another day in the life, as if everyone in the cabin wasn't staring at me. I decide to try and ignore them all as I flop sideways to lie on my bed again, relief flooding my body as my head hits the pillow. Just a few seconds away from a blissful slumber, where I can get my strength back…

"Oof!"

Half-expecting an Eraser or Flyboy or one of those big black dog-things to be the one above me and punching all the air from my lungs, I'm slightly startled when I hear a joyful excited voice, much too loud for that blissful slumber I was after.

"Told you, told you, told you…"

"Angel," I groan tiredly and breathlessly.

"Yes, Fang?" Her voice, right in my face, is way to chipper for her own good.

Once I've got breathing under control again, I crack my eyes open slightly, looking up into her bright blue eyes and even brighter – and too goddamn smug – smile. I try not to smile back in pride of my accomplishment.

"Get off my bed, missy."

"Not a chance. It's too comfy."

"You'll be appreciating just how comfy the floor is in a moment if you don't shift you rear," I grin evilly at her.

"You wouldn't," she challenges. "Not to me." She bats her eyelashes in a way I've seen many times before. The familiarity of it relaxes me even more.

"Don't you dare use that mind-controlling shit on me," I threaten in my best voice while I use my eyes to tell her I'm kidding.

"Fang," Max warns me of my language, half-heartedly because she's happy now that I'm more myself. _You and me, both_.

"What?" I complain with a smile. "If I wasn't harsh enough on her, she'd be having me at the front doing the freakin' Macarena."

Max can't help but burst into laughter at the image I put into her head. I grin hat her, happy that she might not worry too much about me now.

"Hold up." Both Stoll brothers now come to my bed, eyes bright. "I could swear to the gods you just said something about my new baby sister being able to control your mind."

"Yep," the not-so-angelic Angel beams up at them. "I got a lady to buy me Celeste." She scrambles off the bed and reaches by her own bed, standing up again with her bear hugged between her forearms and her chest. Connor shifts his features to display the appropriate degree of joy to be convincing to the six-year-old.

"Well, isn't that just the _**best**_ present you've ever seen?" Connor's voice is so sincere I even start to believe him as he takes both Angel and Celeste in his arms.

"Yeah," Travis grins, "and the bear's pretty cool too."

I can't stop the tired chuckle that escapes my lips; of course, the sons of Hermes are more interested in gaining and mind-reader and –controller into their cabin.

"Hey, but what about our new baby brother?" Travis suddenly realises, turning to the now-shocked blonde boy. "If your sister's so talented, you're bound to have skills, right?" A slow smile spreads across Gazzy's face as he looks down shyly.

"I have something cool with my insides; I can…incapacitate people by using…noxious gases." He stutters over his words as Max glares at him. "Oh, and I'm awesome with explosives."

"Yes!" Travis punches the air, and I can tell Connor would be too if his arms weren't still occupied by Angel.

"Oh, man!" Connor exclaims. "We'll give _**all**_ of the cabins a run for their money."

Shaking my head slightly, I turn over so I'm lying on my stomach, my face turned to the left, and I close my eyes, relishing in the relief it brings me. I hear something beside me, a pressure appearing on the left side of my neck before a set of fingers soothingly scrape along the back of my scalp. I can't help but sigh softly in delight, electric tingles spreading all over my body from my head, somehow exciting and relaxing at the same time, and I push my eyelids open to stare at Max's smiling and now-scarred face. With a huge effort, I haul my arm up, drawing my index finger gently across the scar trail, and Max's smile fades slowly as if she's just remembered what has happened to her face. I can't let her be worried. I just can't leave her feeling self-conscious.

"You're still beautiful," I barely manage to force the words out, but by some miracle she hears me and eyes widen just before mine close and remain so.

**Max's POV**

My scar still prickles from when Fang touched it, but it's a good prickle. I rest my head on his mattress, just staring at his face which is so much more carefree and happy compared to when he's awake. I wish I could turn back time, and go back to when we were in that clearing just a day ago, when he wasn't worrying about who his dad was. I also want to turn back time to just a few moments ago; I want to hear him say it again. Somehow being told you're beautiful has more weight when it comes from Fang.

A hand on my shoulder snaps me out of my ridiculously mushy day-dream, and I turn to see Connor looking down at me. "Time for lights out."

"Okay," I smile at him, then turn back to Fang, not really wanting to leave his side. Tentatively, I trail my fingers lightly across his own face, mirroring where a scar similar to mine would have been, and remember how I felt when he got _**his**_ face scratched by Ari on the beach in New York. I had been angry that his perfect skin had been messed up. Could he possibly feel that same way about me now?

Before I can talk myself out of it, I lean over and brush my lips against his cheek, trying to stop my heart from swelling pathetically when he sighs and smiles ever-so-slightly. I know if any of the flock or others in the cabin were watching that, they're staring at me opening right now, so I avoid their eyes and simply make my way over to my own bed. I lie down quickly, close my eyes, and practically will myself to fall asleep, using the covers as a shield against their curious glances. For once, my body listens to me, and I slip comfortably under, a warm kind of darkness over-taking me.

**Wow, I'm all for the Faxness, aren't I? Anyway, I am SO SORRY for not updating sooner (especially to whoever sent me the PM – who's name I can't check at the moment). I seriously did not think schoolwork would be this bad, and I've been stupid enough to start all my fanfic ideas at once; you try juggling all the ones I've posted so far lol. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**


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